


On The Basis Of Sex

by isitandwonder



Category: Actor RPF, Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Lingerie, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 12:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16576679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isitandwonder/pseuds/isitandwonder
Summary: Armie and Timmy meet at the end of the year after some weeks apart.And Timmy wears his London suit. Apparently, that's enough to get Armie going...





	On The Basis Of Sex

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yvaine24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yvaine24/gifts).



> This is my thank you birthday fic for yvaine24 who kindly sent me a TimeOut!
> 
> Again, thank you so much - and happy birthday, I hope you enjoy!

“Is that… is that your suit from London?” Armie sounds a little breathless. Finally, he’s been able to get away from the table he shares with the rest of the cast and producers of _‘On The Basis Of Sex’_. True, it’s a special awards season screening for important industry officials, but anyway, Armie hasn't seen Timmy in person for a almost two month and he won’t allow for this opportunity to pass by.

Not tonight.

So Armie snatches him away as Timmy is hopping from table to table, chatting, mingling, unceremoniously taking his elbow while grinning at the young actress Timmy has been talking to (all teeth, exposing his fangs) and drags Timmy over to the bar. Everyone watching them seems to smile so it’s fine.

Maybe they think they are cute?

Whatever.

Armie leans against the bar, one arm slung casually around Timmy's waist, and orders two Margaritas. Timmy frowns but doesn't object. He touches the black shining fabric decorated with bright red roses almost absent-mindedly, his long fingers playing with a button.

“Yes, it is. It's a nice suit, Alexander McQueen, so why wear it just once?” He explains, and Armie's once again surprised how deep the voice coming from this dainty body sounds.

True, it's a very nice suit. Armie grabs Timmy by his shoulders and spins him around until he faces him, stroking the lapels with both hands. “It's a lovely suit.” The flowers match the color of Timmy's soft lips.

Their eyes meet and lock.

The small grin Timmy gives him makes Armies stomach flutter. They clink glasses, never breaking eye-contact.

“I'll be careful not to crease it tonight.”

“You wish.” Timmy smirks into his drink

“You're right, I do. Room number?”

“403.” Timmy whispers.

“Later.” Armie winks and downs the rest of his drink before returning to his table.

Two hours later, Armie knocks at 403.

Timmy opens in just his black suit jacket painted with red flowers, red lace panties – and nothing else.

Armie gasps, steps inside and quickly closes the door.

“Jesus, what if someone saw you?”

Timmy shrugs. “So what? I'm single again and apparently quite... fluid. Sexually.” An interview he'd given a few weeks back after splitting up with Lilly had made sure everyone and their aunt now knew about Timmy's bisexuality.

“Yeah, but _I'm_ not...”

“Then you really mean what if somebody saw _you_?” Timmy's smile is cruel. It makes Armie’s heart beat faster.

“Don't do this. Not tonight.”

“Why not?” Timmy pouts. Pouts! 

The little shit.

“Because I'm not going to fuck you if you throw a fit.”

“Well, it's you missing out.” Timmy turns and walks towards the bed, slowly crawling onto it. Armie swallows, licks his lips. Fuck it!

That little arse in those tight, shimmering panties... he's been dreaming about it for almost every night since last time they saw each other. He's not letting him get away.  
When Timmy turns to look up at him over his shoulder they both know Armie’s lost.

He kneels on the mattress behind Timmy, his huge hands cupping his tiny buttocks, rubbing the sheer fabric covering them.

“Hmmm.” Armie hums. Timmy lowers his head onto the bed. “Are those for me?”

“Yes, Armie.” Timmy’s voice is low, hoarse.

Armie presses the pad of his thumb down Timmy’s creak, searching the tight ring of muscle hidden underneath the delicate lace. When he feels it he pushes against it. Timmy sighs.

“That’s what you need, baby?”

“I need so much more than just your fingers, Armie.”

“Greedy, are we?”

Armie can literally hear Timmy smirk against the comforter.

“You know me. I never get enough of you.”

“We’ll see.”

“Ha!”

Armie pulls his thumb back and instead pinches Timmy’s cheek, hard, before leaning down to whisper in his ear: “I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” He’s quite satisfied when he sees Timmy’s face and neck go pink, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Still, he manages to say: “Will you?” But the tease is watered down by the breathlessness of his voice.

By way of an answer Armie moves his hand to Timmy groin and starts to palm his cock. The lace trapping it is already wet, soaked through. Timmy bucks into the touch, moaning softly, and Armie lets him, just for a moment, giving him the friction he needs.

“So, tell me again, who’s greedy here?”

“Me.” Timmy pants. “I’m just a greedy little slut in need of your massive cock up my ass.”

“Aren’t you lucky? I’ve just what you want.”

When Armie removes his hand Timmy groans. That earns him another slap on his ass.

“Come on, baby, be a good boy and earn your reward.”

Armie scoots back a little and gets up on his knees while Timmy turns around and crawls over. His hair is tousled, the jacket hanging open, exposing his pale chest splotched with red patches of arousal. His eyes are hooded; his mouth hangs slightly open. He looks both hungry and obedient at the same time. 

Armie feels his own cock strain against his fly. Thank god Timmy starts to free it.

He’s commando as always at such events that require him to wear a suit. He’s learned that from his lover. _‘Underwear really ruins the line, Armie,’_ Timmy used to tell him during their promotion tour for _Call Me By Your Name_. 

The smug grin accompanying such advice had been wiped from his face when Armie had started to turn up in super-revealing track suits. It had been a petty revenge and maybe childish but it had helped Armie through the days. It had helped dealing with Liz's constant supervision and criticism. 

He doesn't want to think about his wife right now, though.

So he tries to focus on the here and now. Timmy helps.

Because when Armie's erection is bobbing free Timmy outright lungs at it, swallowing as much as possible – which is about half of his hard flesh. Because Armie’s really huge – and Timmy’s a little out of practice. 

That's why Armie gives him a moment before he cants his hips and pushes deeper. Timmy immediately starts gagging and tries to pull back.

“No, no, no. You can do it.” Armie grabs the back of Timmy's head and holds him in place. Timmy’s throat constricts. He looks up at Armie with pleading, watering eyes but Armie shows him no mercy as he slides deeper into his mouth. Timmy’s lips stretch obscenely around his shaft as he gets his throat stuffed.

He gags again, convulsively, and starts drooling, making desperate little sounds, almost whining.

“Relax.” Armie tells him, swiping the thumb of his free hand through the saliva dripping down Timmy’s chin to smear it over his cheekbone.

Eventually, Timmy gives in, his eyes fluttering shut. His throat opens as he swallows, swallows, and then Armie feels the tip of his nose pressing into his blond pubic hair while his cock hits his soft palate.

“God, this feels so good. Your mouth is everything, baby.” As Armie praises him he can feel Timmy trying to smile – which isn’t easy with a mouth full of cock, but somehow the little minx manages.

When Armie eventually pulls out Timmy coughs, still chasing after his cock with his wet lips.

“No, enough. Come here.” Armie pulls Timmy up by his hair until he sits in his lap, Armie's straining erection rubbing against his ass still covered in silk.

“You are wearing too much clothes.” Armie grabs the front of the delicate panties and pulls. They give easily, ripping apart. The red silk dangles from his fingers and he brings it to his face, smelling it, smelling Timmy.

“Hmm, I love your scent.”

Timmy leans in to kiss him, deep and open-mouthed, his lips still swollen from sucking Armie's cock. It's so fucking intimate that Armie feels butterflies in his stomach.

They both need it badly.

Armie swats Timmy's ass cheeks, just once. “Get up.” Timmy rises on his knees. “You got lube somewhere?”

Timmy nods towards the nightstand.

Armie quickly pulls his shirt over his head before getting rid of his shoes, socks and trousers while he clambers over to get the lube.

“Peach scented? Seriously?”

Timmy grins. “I thought it's funny.”

It kinda is.

Armie gets back on the bed, slicking himself up, kneeling on the mattress. Timmy climbs back into his lap.

“You ready?”

He nods, slowly lowering himself.

He's so fucking tight, especially without any preparation. Armie watches his face scrunching up but just as he wants to say stop Timmy's features go slack. He bottoms out, and soon Timmy is bopping on his cock, riding him with obvious pleasure. Armie just grabs his hips and holds on.

Timmy is moaning, his hands tangled in Armie's hair, his designer jacket sliding off his shoulders, getting soaked in sweat. The dark wool is a stark contrast to his white skin. When Armie pinches his nipples Timmy throws his head back and outright howls.

“You like that, baby? Come on, then, go get it.”

Timmy is impaling himself by now, his face flushed, mouth hanging open. His hard cock brushes Armie's abdomen with every move, the wet tip leaving glistening traces on his abs.

“I... Armie... I... Oh god!”

“Are you close, baby? Come on... yeah, that's it.”

Armie can feel Timmy's muscles contract, spasm, as he shoots his load all over Armie's stomach. Armie grabs him even tighter and just as he sags forward starts to fuck up into him in earnest.

Timmy is babbling, maybe begging for Armie to stop but he can't hear him over the sound of his own blood rushing through his veins. Just a few thrusts more, and Armie is coming deep inside him, biting down on Timmy's bony shoulder to stifle a cry.

Afterwards, he carefully lowers Timmy onto the mattress.

“See, nothing got on your suit.”

But Timmy doesn't laugh. He just curls up in a fetal position.

“Hey, no.” Armie somehow divests him of his jacket, throwing it on the floor before spooning him from behind, pulling the duvet over them.

“You'll fuck me tomorrow before breakfast?” He asks softly, nibbling on Timmy's ear. Timmy just nods before he goes under.

Armie holds him tight. His flight leaves at noon. Timmy'll be in Europe from Monday on for the foreseeable future, shooting _Dune_. This might be their last night together for a very long time.

Armie sighs.

It's fucked up. He knows it. But a love like theirs will always find a way.

“Happy birthday.” He whispers against Timmy's skin.

Timmy squirms a little, smiling in his sleep.


End file.
